


blood (of the covenant) // water (of the womb)

by phantomfantaaa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Family Angst, Found Family, Gen, Growing Up, Homophobia, Kuroo Tetsurou-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomfantaaa/pseuds/phantomfantaaa
Summary: con·nect[kə-ˈnekt](verb)1. to become joined2. to make a successful hit, shot, or throw3. to create an energy between people where they feel heard, seen, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from each other
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Bokuto Koutarou & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kai Nobuyuki & Kuroo Tetsurou & Yaku Morisuke, Kozume Kenma & Kuroo Tetsurou, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, Minor or Background Relationship(s), yakulev if you squint
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	blood (of the covenant) // water (of the womb)

**Author's Note:**

> Fic playlist can be found [here!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3BlEWQbARiTS1MYqV6ncdd?si=l56ewq7qSpaaTauk84_D9Q) New songs will be added as I post new chapters.  
>   
> Tags and rating will be updated as the fic progresses -- it WILL eventually be mature or explicit, and it will also have minor manga spoilers.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The five love languages are, in no particular order: words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch, acts of service, and gifts. Maybe video games and volleyball can be the sixth and seventh.

_Life is not what you alone make it. Life is the input of everyone who touched your life and every experience that entered it. We are all part of one another.”_

_—Yuri Kochiyama_

* * *

“I’m home!” Tetsurou called out in the empty _genkan,_ shoving off his shoes and throwing his backpack on the floor before going to his sister’s room to bother her. “Sukiiiiii,” he whined, throwing himself on her bed as a greeting.

“Hey Tetsu," his sister said without looking up from her book. Tetsurou craned his neck to read the title, but he didn’t recognize it.

“Whatcha reading?”

“It’s for school.”

Tetsurou laid on the soft bedding and stared at the ceiling, trying to make shapes out of the cracks in the plaster. He could hear voices, muffled but still audible, coming from the kitchen, and he winced when they suddenly crescendoed.

“They’re at it again,” Suki sighed.

Tiny fractures branched out from a squiggly crack about a meter long. “When are they not?” 

“It’s gotten worse lately.”

Tetsurou shrugged, and the rustle of his shoulders against the bedspread drowned out the biting sounds for a split second. 

Suki finally set the book down and stared at Tetsurou’s splayed-out form. Tetsurou stared at the peeling white paint. “Doesn’t it bother you?” she finally asked.

Tetsurou rolled over to look at his sister. “Yeah, it sucks. But it’s always been like that.”

“Yeah, they’ve been like that since before you can probably remember.” Suki sighed again. What was it with teenage girls and sighing all the time? “There was a time, though, before you were born. I think they were happy at one point.” 

“Are you saying it’s my fault they hate each other now?” Tetsurou wrinkled his nose.

Suki laughed humorlessly. “You’re a piece of shit, but even you aren’t that much of a piece of shit. Whatever’s going on between them is their own problem.” 

Tetsurou chewed the inside of his lip in silence and thought to himself. “I’m hungry,” he finally said.

Suki’s laugh sounded more genuine that time. “Come on, I’ll get you something to eat. I have some money left over from my last paycheck.”

A bowl of ramen and a few hours later, Tetsurou laid in bed, soft moonlight filtering through the blinds, and he stared at the cracks in his ceiling. He tried to ignore the voices from his parents’ room and desperately searched for whispering tree leaves, singing crickets, a stray windchime in the breeze— _anything_ other than the muted anger down the hall—to focus on, but the night was not generous enough.

Tetsurou punched his pillow in frustration, resigned to his usual solution, and crushed the padding over his head with his face pressed into the mattress.

**※ ※ ※**

It was a messy divorce—lawyers and custody battles breaking apart an already-fractured family. Because Suki was already in high school, the judge granted his sister’s physical custody to his mother so she could stay in Ibaraki while Tetsurou and his father packed up their things and moved two prefectures away to Tokyo to be closer to his grandparents. 

The new house was smaller than their home back in Ibaraki. Tetsurou missed the quiet fields of home, now replaced by shiny multi-story buildings and bustling streets. It was louder but also quieter in Tokyo. Instead of falling asleep to the omnipresent lullaby of his parents’ arguments, Tetsurou now drifted off to the ghosts of road traffic and late-night trains in an otherwise silent house.

His father started working longer hours at his new job at a sports equipment store. Because Tetsurou was too young to be at home unaccompanied, his father had asked the neighbors to look after Tetsurou during his work shifts. 

“The Kozume family,” his father had informed him in front of a fancy front door across the street, “They have a son who’s around your age.”

Tetsurou and the Kozume child—Kenma, his parents had introduced on his behalf—were currently engaged in a silent staring contest from behind their parents’ legs. He was shorter than Tetsurou but did seem to be close in age, and was wearing a well-worn sweatshirt with the hoodie pulled over shaggy mid-length black hair. 

After the awkward introductions, Tetsurou followed Kenma into the unfamiliar living room while the adults stayed on the porch to continue their small talk. 

“What’s that?” Tetsurou hesitantly asked when he saw a video game paused on the TV. It looked like a 3D first-person shooter with sci-fi-looking scenery. 

_“Metroid Prime.”_

“Oh, cool. Is it fun?”

“Yeah.”

Tetsurou scanned the room for a place to sit and finally perched on one end of the couch. Kenma picked up his purple GameCube controller and crawled onto the other end, sinking into the cushions without sparing Tetsurou a glance, and unpaused the game. 

The adults had automatically assumed that Tetsurou and the sole Kozume child would become fast friends simply because they were both children. If he was being honest, Tetsurou initially had high hopes as well—he was excited to live next to a potential friend. It would have been easier if this Kenma kid actually had a personality. Or even talked. Tetsurou was pretty outgoing, and his loud personality could usually get people to open up, but Tetsurou had trouble reading the other boy.

Suddenly, a giant metallic monster with wings darted on-screen from out of nowhere, making Tetsurou startle. Kenma’s gaze darted over at the movement, but he didn’t comment. Kenma leaped into combat, and even to Tetsurou’s untrained eye, he could tell that Kenma was good at this game as he circled the boss, laser-focused on dodging its strikes and countering with a flurry of attacks. 

Tetsurou found himself at the edge of the seat as the boss battle progressed. Kenma’s energy bar was running dangerously low, and the enemy was launching nonstop fire blasts as it flew in and out of his field of vision, but Tetsurou could tell that it was also getting weaker. Finally, with a burst of quick attacks followed by a side-dodge and well-timed special attack straight at the monster’s chest, the winged beast flailed around in agony and was launched into the abyss.

“That was a cool combo move at the end there,” Tetsurou complimented as the game faded to the loading screen.

Kenma looked up at Tetsurou, golden eyes slightly wide, then jerked his face to the side to hide behind his hair. “Thanks,” he said so softly that Tetsurou had to strain to hear him.

He really _was_ quiet, which was going to be a challenge for Tetsurou, but maybe they could work something out.

**※ ※ ※**

“How was it?” his father asked him later that night after he returned home from his shift.

“Kenma’s alright,” Tetsurou said plainly with a shrug, “How was work? Did anything interesting happen? Did you meet any cool customers? You have new coworkers now, right? Since you’re working the closing shift too? 

“Don’t ask so many questions,” his father said instead of an answer, “I’m tired. Why don’t you go play while I rest?” He reclined on the couch and tipped his head back, closing his eyes.

“What about dinner?” Tetsurou asked.

“You didn’t eat yet?” He cracked open a single eye to peer at Tetsurou.

“No, I was waiting for you to come home first.”

His father closed his eyes again, sighed, and the wrinkles around his mouth deepened with a slight frown. He stood up, reaching into his pocket, and fished out a couple of 100-yen coins, tossing them carelessly onto the kitchen table.

“You can get something from the _conbini_ down the street. I already ate on my way home.”

“Oh okay, thanks…” Tetsurou slipped the coins into his pocket and turned toward the front door, shoving his feet back into his shoes. 

“I’m working the closing shift tomorrow, too, so you should just go straight to the Kozume house after school,” his father called out right before he left, “You should just go there every day, actually. I’ll be working evenings for a while. I’ll call Kozume tomorrow to make sure it’s okay.”

Tetsurou pulled on a jacket and looked over his shoulder at his father, who had settled back on the couch and was already on the verge of falling asleep. “Okay. Are you walking me to school in the morning?”

“We’ll see,” he grunted. “If I don’t see you, have a good first day.”

Tetsurou nodded and walked into the chilly night air, suppressing a shiver despite the jacket. Autumn was ramping up, and it was going to start snowing in a few months. He made a mental note to ask his father to get him a new coat later, glancing down at the sleeves on his current jacket that had grown a little too short.

He made his way to the Lawson at the end of the block and scanned the _bento_ section, only to end up buying a box of _honenashi_ and a bottle of hot lemon tea instead. The greasy fried chicken warmed him as he ate, even though he knew he would probably get a stomachache later, but that’s what the lemon tea was for. 

As he walked back to his house, the quiet rustling of the plastic bag cut through the sounds of distant street traffic. Tokyo was full of ambient noise—something Tetsurou was still adjusting to—but it also felt quieter in a way. He glanced at the hazy sky, the city street lights too bright to see any stars. He missed the constellations from back home— _back in Ibaraki,_ he corrected himself. _Tokyo is home now._

By the time Tetsurou returned, his father was already passed out on the couch, softly breathing through his nose. Tetsurou quietly disposed of the empty containers to not disturb his sleeping father, then went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. The _sh-sh-sh-sh_ of his toothbrush felt overwhelmingly loud against the muted backdrop as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, squishing his palm against his messy hair to try to flatten it. It sprang back up the instant he removed his hand. The rush of the faucet was even louder, echoing against the porcelain bowl, and the door squeaked when it moved, and every little noise made Tetsurou cringe with just how jarring it sounded in the otherwise-silent house. 

He felt on edge, unable to relax even after he changed into pajamas and slipped between his sheets. He stared at the ceiling, a boring, blank, white expanse over his bed, then squeezed his eyes shut. It was so quiet, _too quiet—_ even the distant trains and cars were quiet tonight—and it made everything else feel so _loud:_ his breathing, the mattress creaking every time he tossed and turned, the blood rushing in his ears. He tried to lay as still as possible so the bed wouldn’t make noise, but then he couldn’t stop focusing on his uneven breaths. The unintentional attention made him hyperconscious of his breathing pattern, which only made it more unsteady, which then led to him nearly passing out from improper oxygen intake.

Tetsurou complained out loud to no one in particular, frustrated and desperate for the sweet release of sleep, and shoved a pillow over his face—perhaps in a futile attempt to suffocate himself. He was unsuccessful, but the weight over his head was comforting and familiar, and he slipped out of consciousness soon enough.

**※ ※ ※**

His father was nowhere to be seen the next morning, presumably still asleep after his long evening shift the night before. Tetsurou made two servings of _tamagoyaki_ for breakfast and studied a map, carefully memorizing the directions to his new school, as he maneuvered his chopsticks to roll layer after layer of egg. He set a plate on the counter for his father to eat later while he quickly scarfed down his portion, checking the time to make sure he wasn’t running behind—he wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to get to the campus, and he didn’t want to be late on his first day, so he gave himself thirty minutes for the commute. 

He ended up only needing fifteen, and the principal seemed pleased that Tetsurou had arrived early, telling him that he could go to the nurse’s office—to get his vitals taken for the school records, the principal explained—instead of waiting until after school. He then brought in the class representative, a boy who introduced himself as Ito Ryusei, who led Tetsurou to the other end of the front office. 

“So why’d you transfer schools in the middle of the year?” Ito asked curiously as they walked through the halls.

“My parents got divorced and my dad moved here to be closer to family,” Tetsurou explained plainly. 

“Oh.” Ito stuffed his hands in his pockets. “That sucks.”

“It’s fine,” Tetsurou reassured him, “So did you grow up in Tokyo?”

“Yep, most of the kids you see around here have been here their whole lives,” Ito explained, “It’s mostly the university students and adults who are from other prefectures.”

“I see…” 

“Yeah. Well, here’s the nurse’s office. I’ll wait out here until you’re done so I can show you the way to your classroom.” 

“Thanks, I’ll try to be quick,” Tetsurou said, nodding at Ito as the other boy sat down on the bench against the wall.

The whole affair took less than ten minutes—the nurse asked him some questions, checked his heart and lungs with a stethoscope, conducted a quick eye exam, took his blood pressure, and measured his height—and before long, he was back with Ito and walking to his classroom.

“I’m one hundred thirty-point-two centimeters now!” Tetsurou bragged when left the nurse’s office, proud that he beat the 1.3-meter mark earlier than most other boys. 

“No way,” Ito lamented, “I bet that hair of yours adds at least three centimeters!”

“Nuh uh, the nurse pushed that metal thing all the way down to my skull!” Tetsurou frowned at the accusation.

The boy shrugged. “If you say so. Anyways, this is your classroom. I’m in class 3-2, so I guess I’ll see you.” 

“Oh okay, thanks for showing me around!” 

Ito nodded in reply and without another word, he turned and retreated across the hall.

Most of the students were already in the classroom by then, milling about in their separate friend groups, so Tetsurou made his way to the back of the room and tossed his backpack on an empty desk. He spotted a girl a few rows away who was sitting alone, so he walked over to introduce himself. 

“Hi, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou,” he said with a small bow.

“Hello!” The girl jerked up in surprise but still greeted him with a bright smile. “I’m Okada Atsuko—you can call me Atsuko. It’s nice to meet you! Are you the new transfer student?”

Tetsurou nodded. “I just moved here from Ibaraki.”

“Ooh, I’ve always wanted to see the flower gardens there!”

“They’re pretty close to where I used to live! It’s really pretty, I hope you can visit sometime.” Tetsurou smiled at distant memories of family visits to Hitachi Seaside Park and its endless fields of soft sky-blue and bushy red. 

Tetsurou and Atsuko got along well, and Atsuko’s friend Yukie easily joined the conversation when she eventually arrived. They made small talk, trying to get to know each other better.

“What do your parents do, Tetsurou?” Yukie asked.

“My dad works at a sports store, and my mom’s a baker,” he answered easily.

“I’m so jealous,” Yukie moaned, “I bet you get to go home to cookies and cakes and pastries all the time, huh?” 

“Oh, uh… I don’t live with my mom. My parents are divorced,” he explained for the second time that morning. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so insensitive of me,” Yukie cried, “What was I even thinking, and you just moved too, which means it probably happened recently—”

“Yukie, just shut up already.” Atsuko elbowed her friend in the ribs and turned to Tetsurou. “Sorry about that, just ignore her. So your dad works at a sports store? That’s cool. I have an older brother who plays volleyball on his high school team…”

**※ ※ ※**

“What are you playing today?” Tetsurou carefully lined his shoes and school backpack against the wall and followed Kenma’s lead into the living room. He sat down on the left side of the couch and Kenma settled on the right, leaving about a meter of space between them. “Ooh, is this _Double Dash?_ ”

“Yeah.”

“Can I join?”

“Okay.” Kenma tossed a spare silver GameCube controller at Tetsurou. He fumbled with the catch and had to awkwardly crawl on the ground under the TV to plug it in, but the minor indignity was soon forgotten after Kenma reset the game to select _2 Players._ Tetsurou scrolled through the characters and finally settled on Toad while Kenma selected Princess Peach. 

Kenma remained reserved when he played video games with Tetsurou, only occasionally muttering under his breath when he fell behind or nodding triumphantly when he won. The two boys raced each other, lap after lap, game after game, karts skidding along the routes and occasionally drifting off-road. By the fifth game, Kenma had audibly grumbled when Tetsurou hit him with a blue shell at the last second, and by the tenth game, he laughed out loud when Tetsurou wailed at his third consecutive loss.

**※ ※ ※**

Tetsurou rang the doorbell across the street for the eighth afternoon in a row, and he was greeted by Kenma’s mother and a warm smile.

“Oh hello, Tetsurou!”

“Good afternoon, Kozume- _san_ ,” Tetsurou said with a bow.

“No need to be so formal, Tetsurou _-kun!_ You’ve been here enough times by now.” The woman stepped aside to let Tetsurou through the door. “Kenma isn’t home yet, but I’m sure he’ll be here any minute now. Such a slow walker, that one!” She walked into the kitchen, motioning for Tetsurou to follow. “I’m making a pie which should be ready in a couple of minutes. By the way, I was wondering—why do you and Kenma walk home separately?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you already spend all evening together, so you might as well walk home from school together as well.”

“Wait… Kenma goes to the same school as me?”

“Yukiyagawa Elementary, right? Didn’t you know?”

Before Tetsurou could answer, the front door opened, and soon enough, Kenma himself entered the kitchen.

“Oh, hi Kuro.”

“Kenma!” Tetsurou rounded on the boy. “Did you know that I was today years old when I found out that we go to the same school? _Today,_ as in it’s-been-a-week-since-we-became-friends?!”

Kenma shrugged. “You never asked.”

“I never— Kenma, what—” Tetsurou sputtered as Kenma’s mother attempted to stifle her laughter.

“Kenma, honey, it’s okay to bring up things without being asked,” she said, not unkindly.

“I’m going to go play video games,” Kenma said instead and left for the living room, Tetsurou trailing behind him.

“Seriously though, Kenma, we could have been walking to school and back home together this whole time!” Tetsurou badgered him, refusing to let it go.

Kenma tensed, and Tetsurou hesitated in his steps. “I didn’t think you’d want to.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I do. We’re friends, and I like spending time with you.”

“Oh.” Kenma’s posture relaxed slightly, and he started rifling through his extensive shelf of games as Tetsurou dropped his backpack on the ground and flopped on the couch. “Want to play _Melee?”_

“Hell yeah,” Tetsurou said, reaching for the silver controller, already plugged in and resting on the coffee table, “But only if you promise not to play Pikachu and Thunderspam again.”

“Okay, I’ll just play as Marth then.”

“Ugh you’ll still kick my ass with Marth,” Tetsurou whined, “But fine. I get to play as Kirby then.”

“You suck at Kirby.” Kenma’s eyes were trained on the TV as he inputted his player name.

“Do not!” 

“You totally suck.”

“He’s fun though! And he’s cute.”

“Guess I’m kicking your ass then.” Kenma glanced over at Tetsurou, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Just shut up and select Marth already.”

**※ ※ ※**

“What’s _Resident Evil?”_ Tetsurou scanned the shelf full of video games and picked out a title he didn’t recognize. He wrinkled his nose at the grotesque graphic of a woman strangling a zombie on the front cover and handed the case to Kenma.

“It’s a survival horror game about a town where a bunch of people were mysteriously murdered. There’s a lot of zombies and stuff. It’s pretty fun. I beat it the day it came out.”

“Wow, you’re really good at video games huh?”

“I guess.” The corner of Kenna’s mouth tilted up as he took the disc and popped it into the GameCube. “Have you ever played a horror game?”

Tetsurou shivered and shook his head. “No, never. Scary stuff gives me the heebie-jeebies.” 

“Perfect.” Kenma’s mouth curved into a smirk as he tossed the silver controller to Tetsurou. “You’re playing today.”

Thirty minutes later, Tetsurou’s throat was nearly hoarse from screaming.

“What the hell! What. THE HELL. WHAT THE— OH HELL NO GET ME OUT OF HERE!” 

Kenma snorted. “You okay?”

“NO. I AM NOT OKAY. KENMA DO SOMETHING.” Tetsurou shrieked again as he opened the door to a new room and a corpse fell out of the ceiling. 

“What do you want me to do?”

“Something! Anything! You literally beat this game already, just save me!” 

“Hm, I think you can handle it.” Kenma bit his lip, holding back a smile with shining eyes.

“Kenmaaaa,” Tetsurou begged, “You’re being so mean!”

“Oh, sorry.”

Tetsurou looked over and noticed that Kenma’s empty, controller-less hands had started picking at his cuticles.

“I’m just kidding,” he quickly said, averting his gaze, “But for real though. Please save me.” He pouted at Kenma, making his best sad puppy impression. Kenma rolled his eyes and reached across the couch, plucking the controller from Tetsurou’s hands.

“Thank you~” Tetsurou grinned, thrilled to be relieved from the game, and fought the urge to lean into the space between them to wrap Kenma in a grateful hug.

**※ ※ ※**

“Are you staying for dinner again?”

“Yeah, my dad said he’d be home late.”

“Okay, cool. You’re not lactose intolerant, right?”

“No, why?”

“It’s my birthday so my parents are probably gonna get a cake or something. Don’t want you to puke.”

“WHAT!? Kenma, why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?”

“I just did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier!? I could have gotten you a gift.”

“It’s not really a big deal.” Kenma lowered his eyes under his bangs.

“Okay.” Tetsurou narrowed his eyes, not believing Kenma but too unsure of his boundaries to push it. “If you say so. How old are you now?”

“Eight.”

“We’re the same age!”

“Oh, cool.”

“Well, I’m gonna be nine in a month.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“I just said—in a month.”

“I heard that.” Kenma rolled his eyes. “I meant what date?”

“November 17.”

“That’s exactly a month and a day away.”

“Huh, that’s right.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of cake?”

“Why are you asking me? Isn’t it your birthday?”

“Mine’s vanilla. What’s yours?”

“Chocolate,” Tetsurou said, grinning. “Vanilla, huh?”

“What about it?”

“Nothing. Does this mean we’re having vanilla cake tonight?”

“Probably.”

**※ ※ ※**

“Kuro, don’t be stupid.”

“I’m not! It’s perfectly valid to think that plot is the most important part!”

“Well yeah, of course plot is important, but not if it’s going to result in worse game design.”

“And how exactly is the design of _Super Mario Sunshine_ better than _Sonic Adventure 2?”_

“The presentation.” Kenma’s eyes sharpened and he started to count off his fingers. “It’s definitely better from a graphics, audio, control, and gameplay perspective.”

“Okay, if you’re going to talk about the visuals though, then you gotta admit that _Sonic Adventure_ has more variety in locales. There’s cities, forests, canyons, even a whole ass space station! _Super Mario Sunshine_ is just tropical.”

“True, but _Sonic’s_ designs can be bland and clunky—”

“The gameplay speed for _Sonic_ is so fast that it doesn’t even matter, though—”

“—and the environment designs in _Mario Sunshine_ are much sharper and brighter—”

“—and speaking of, the pacing is so much better, like _Mario Sunshine_ is just so _slow_ and repetitive—”

“—besides, _Mario Sunshine_ just gets a bad rep because it’s different but that’s because it’s _innovative_ and came up with unique mechanics—”

“—plus the plot for _Sunshine_ is really weird!”

Kenma stopped and squinted his eyes at Tetsurou. “ _Super Mario Sunshine_ is the _only_ Mario game that actually cares about its characters. Peach gets more lines in the first scene than, like, _all_ the previous games combined.” Kenma thought to himself for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “If you think about it, the storylines for _Sonic Adventure 2_ and _Super Mario Sunshine_ are kind of similar.”

“What the— Kenma, what are you even talking about anymore?!”

“No I’m serious, hear me out,” Kenma leaned forward as his thoughts took form. “In _Sonic Adventure 2_ , Sonic gets arrested after being falsely accused for Shadow’s crimes. Same thing happens in _Super Mario Sunshine_ where Mario gets framed by Shadow Mario and is sent to clean the entire island.” 

Tetsurou stared into Kenma’s bright golden eyes, his jaw firm in determination. “I’m not going to win this, am I?” he sighed in defeat. Kenma shook his head. “Okay, we agree that _Mario 64_ is better than _Sunshine_ though, right?”

“Duh.”

**※ ※ ※**

Tetsurou tugged on the straps of his backpack and waved goodbye to Atsuko and Yukie as they left the yard. There were fewer and fewer of his classmates left, with more parents showing up by the minute, which meant his dad was _late_. 

He nervously looked up at his teacher. “I’m sorry Sato-s _ensei_ , he said he was picking me up today. I can just walk home.”

“It’s okay, Tetsurou- _kun_ , I don’t mind. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” His teacher tried to reassure him with a smile.

“I hope so,” he mumbled.

“Do you have any fun plans for your birthday?”

“My dad said we could go out for a movie tonight!” Tetsurou brightened up when he remembered his father’s promise. “I’m going to ask him if we can get ice cream after, too.”

“That sounds like a lovely plan. Do you have any birthday traditions?”

“Not really.” Tetsurou puffed out his cheeks. “When I was younger, my family just spent time together and maybe my mom would make a special dinner but...well…” Tetsurou trailed off.

“Right,” Sato- _sensei_ said, suddenly looking tired. 

At that moment, Tetsurou spotted his dad’s silver sedan pulling around the corner, and he bounced on his heels in anticipation. “Gotta go, my dad’s here! Bye, Sato- _sensei!_ ” 

His teacher waved him off, the bright smile back on her face, and Tetsurou ran to clamber in the backseat of the car. 

“Hi, _Tou-san!”_ Tetsurou gushed as soon as he buckled his seatbelt, excitement bubbling in his stomach. “When are we going to the movies? Can we go now?”

“I’m really sorry, but I actually can’t tonight.”

Tetsurou felt every bubble burst. “Oh,” he said, the smile sliding off his face, “That’s okay. Did you get scheduled for an evening shift again?”

“Sure,” his father said before reaching to the floor of the passenger seat and pulling out a plastic bag. “Don’t look so sad, I’ll make it up to you. Here, I got you a birthday present!”

Tetsurou peeked in the bag to see a blue and yellow sphere encased in cardboard. “You got me...a volleyball?”

“Brand new from the store! I figured you could get into a sport and get strong as a young man should. Your girlfriend has a brother who plays, right?”

Tetsurou wrinkled his nose at the smell of synthetic leather. “Atsuko’s just a friend but, um, yeah. Thank you for the gift.”

“No problem.” Tetsurou saw his dad grinning to himself in the rearview mirror, seemingly proud of his choice of gift. Even though Tetsurou had never played volleyball in his life, or even shown an interest in the sport. “I’ll drop you off with Kozume. I’ll probably be home late.”

“Okay,” Tetsurou simply said, and he rode the rest of the car ride in silence.

When Tetsurou rang the familiar doorbell, Kenma opened the door himself instead of one of his parents. “Happy birthday, Kuro,” he said as Tetsurou kicked off his shoes. “I didn’t think I’d see you until later tonight.” Kenma nodded at the bag in Tetsurou’s hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just a volleyball. My dad got it for me,” Tetsurou explained.

“Nice. I didn’t know you played.” They walked to the living room and plopped in their usual positions on the couch, Tetsurou on the left and Kenma on the right with a cushion between them.

“I don’t,” Tetsurou said, tossing the volleyball, still in its cardboard packaging, in the air and catching it again. “Atsuko’s brother plays, though.” Tetsurou thought that it was interesting that out of all the things in Tetsurou’s life, _that_ was one of the few facts that his father actually remembered. “Maybe she can get him to teach us.”

“Do you want to play now?” Kenma asked as he untangled the controllers. 

“Nah, we can just play video games like usual.” Tetsurou tossed the volleyball again, but instead of catching it when it came down, he bounced it off his fingertips to send it back in the air. “You wanted to try out Four Swords this week, right?”

“You sure? It’s your birthday.” 

Tetsurou fiddled with the cardboard. It’s not like he was particularly excited about volleyball, and he kind of wanted to ignore the gift to spite his dad for ditching him on his birthday. But he also had a buzzing under his skin that he knew he wouldn’t be able to chase away while sitting still. 

He tore the corner of the packaging and popped out the ball. “Okay, let’s try this thing out.”

Kenma led them to a small park down the street, and they stood side by side and stared at the sphere between Tetsurou’s hands.

“I have no idea how to play volleyball, by the way,” Kenma said.

“Me neither,” Tetsurou replied, “It can’t be _that_ hard, right?”

“Uhh…” 

“We can figure it out!” Tetsurou declared with confidence. “I’ve seen it on TV a few times. You just gotta bounce it off your arms like this.” He threw the ball straight up in the air and clasped his hands together, arms straight out and ready for the ball to drop. Tetsurou tried to thrust his arms forward when the ball hit his body, like he saw in movies, and winced at the impact of the hard material on his skin. The ball went flying sharply to the side, nearly hitting Kenma who barely ducked in time.

“There’s no way that could have cleared a net,” Kenma scolded Tetsurou, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Shut up, that was my first try!” Tetsurou defended himself. “As if you could do better!”

“Here, give me a turn.”

Tetsurou threw the ball in a high arc to Kenma, who tried to copy Tetsurou’s previous movements, except Tetsurou’s aim was slightly off and the ball ended up landing about two feet to the left of Kenma’s arms.

“You totally could have tried to get that,” Tetsurou accused. Kenma pouted in reply. 

The two boys soon figured out that Tetsurou had way too much pent up energy, and Kenma hated moving, so Kenma’s role was to throw the ball for Tetsurou to bump, and Tetsurou had to chase the ball after it went flying. 

They played until the sun dipped past the horizon, until Kenma’s mother found them with sweat-soaked shirts and grass-stained knees, legs sore from jumping and stomachs sore from laughing. Tetsurou grinned throughout the brief walk back to Kenma’s house, even though Kozume- _san_ was scolding them to wash up, and the smile persisted throughout dinner until they finished washing the dishes.

Suddenly, the room went dark as Tetsurou was searching for a towel to dry his hands, and he turned around from the sink in surprise. Kenma’s mother was walking into the kitchen holding a chocolate cake with lit candles on top. She, along with her husband and Kenma, started singing.

_Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you~_

The glow of nine candles lit up the faces of the people singing before him, and Tetsurou felt the pinprick of tears forming.

_Happy birthday Tetsurou~_

_Happy birthday to you~_

_“Tanjoubi omedetou_ Tetsurou _-kun_ , make a wish!” Kenma’s mother said softly after they finished the song. Tetsurou thought for a second, smiling to himself, and blew out the candles.

_I wish for more birthdays with Kenma._

**※ ※ ※**

“Hey Kenma?”

“What?”

“Can we play volleyball again?”

“...”

“Please?”

“Why?”

“I had a lot of fun last time…”

“...”

“...”

“I’m not running after the ball.”

**※ ※ ※**

“Versus or co-op?”

“Dude, co-op. We’re never going back to versus.”

“That’s because you kept losing.” Kenma selected co-op mode anyway.

“Yeah, and now we always win. Teamwork makes the dream work.” 

_Select Character Combination_ flashed at the top of the screen, and Kenma immediately chose Princess Peach. “More like I do all the heavy lifting, and you just throw items.”

“Hey if we’re talking heavy lifting, wouldn’t I, the item thrower, technically be the one doing all the lifting?” That earned Tetsurou a kick to the stomach. Tetsurou shoved Kenma’s leg off his lap. “Whatever, you’re just mad that I always hit you with blue shells when we play versus.” Tetsurou’s cursor hovered over Princess Daisy before selecting. “Let’s use the Heart Coach.”

“But the Parade Kart has better stats.”

“Okay fine, I trust your judgment.” 

“Because I’m obviously better at _Mario Kart.”_

“Kenma, that literally means nothing. You’re better than me at every game. Ooh, Mushroom Cup.”

Their kart blasted off, and by halfway through the first lap, they had easily sped into first place where they remained for the remaining two laps.

“I guess you help with drifting, too,” Kenma admitted as the leaderboard loaded, the two princesses smiling at the top.

“Exactly. Where would you be without me?”

Kenma didn’t answer, but he did glance over at Tetsurou, and Tetsurou swore he saw a flash of a smile.

**※ ※ ※**

“Can you toss for me again today?”

“It’s raining though.”

“That’s okay! I found a community gym nearby that we can go to.” Tetsurou poked Kenma’s arm. “Pleeeease? I wanna get better at hitting the ball.”

“You can get better another day.”

“I have too much energy right now.” Another light jab at Kenma’s arm.

“You always have too much energy.”

“Kyan-ma, you wound me.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Tetsurou moved his hand up to poke Kenma’s cheek. “It suits you. You’re like a sleepy kitty that just wants to curl up inside all day.”

“If I agree to go, will you stop calling me that?”

“Probably not.”

“You’re going to be annoying all day if we don’t go out, aren’t you?”

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re the worst.”

“I know. Now go get dressed!” 

Kenma grumbled the entire ten-minute walk, complaining that Tetsurou was too tall for their shared umbrella to be fully effective, but Tetsurou thought that the damp commute was worth it when they arrived at the gym. The cacophonous _bump ba-dump_ of balls bouncing against the floor, the glint of bright fluorescent lights against shiny hardwood, the sharp menthol of Salonpas wafting through the air. 

Tetsurou turned around to drag Kenma by the wrist to the cart of volleyballs across the gym, but he stopped when he saw that the younger boy’s expression was far from the one on Tetsurou’s face. While Tetsurou was brimming with excitement, Kenma had hunched shoulders, flitting eyes, fingers picking at nails. It then hit Tetsurou that the sensations that made the blood under his skin tingle were potentially things that Kenma hated. Unfamiliar sport, unfamiliar sensations, unfamiliar people: check, check, check. Kenma was definitely out of his comfort zone.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize it would be so busy.” Tetsurou cringed. “We can come back another day.”

“No, it’s okay.” Kenma took a breath, scanning the room. “Just give me time to adjust.”

“Okay,” Tetsurou nodded, “Just let me know when you wanna go home.” 

Kenma glanced over at Tetsurou and gave him a weak smile. 

_Kenma doesn’t do things he doesn’t want to do,_ he reminded himself, leading them to a relatively secluded corner of the gym. They warmed up by passing a ball back and forth, the soft skin of their forearms still adjusting to the burn of each additional bump. Kenma only complained once at the beginning, but Tetsurou noticed the way his eyes sharpened as he focused on the ball arcing through the air. It reminded him of the way Kenma tracked and analyzed the movements of an enemy during a boss battle. 

“My arms hurt,” Kenma eventually complained again. “Can I switch to tossing?”

“Yeah, I wanna try spiking!” Tetsurou glanced beyond their little corner of the gym to search for an empty net, spotting a boy—he was older than them, maybe by a few years, but still young—doing serving drills on an otherwise-empty court. “Let’s ask that guy if he’s okay with sharing.”

Without hesitation, Tetsurou led the way and approached the teenager. As he maneuvered across the gym, Tetsurou noticed that the boy was practicing under the watchful eye of an older man wearing a tracksuit and a kind smile. Perhaps moved by the earnestness in Tetsurou’s ask, the strangers shifted to the end of the net, relinquishing the other end to the younger boys.

“You ready?” Tetsurou pushed a cart closer to their court and couldn’t resist the bounce in his step. Just a tiny bounce. He didn’t want to look _that_ embarrassing in public. 

Kenma nodded, so Tetsurou threw the ball in a high arc close to the net. When the ball hit the peak and began falling, Tetsurou backed up and started running, and he jumped with all his might as the ball descended onto Kenma’s fingertips. As he leaped into the air, the ball materialized in front of him, and he slammed down with all the strength in his right arm—

—only for the ball to squarely hit the net, unceremoniously drop to the floor, and slowly roll across the court.

“Well,” Kenma said, “that was…” 

“Our first try,” Tetsurou finished, refusing to get discouraged. “Let’s try again!”

They went through the same motions, Kenma tossing balls near the net for Tetsurou to spike over and over again, but things kept going wrong—Tetsurou would mess up the timing on the first throw, or Kenma’s aim would be slightly off. Every time they did manage to connect, the net remained an obstacle.

“Maybe we can move a little farther back ?” Kenma suggested.

“I don’t think that’ll help…” Tetsurou squinted at the net, trying to calculate things he didn’t quite understand yet, like velocity. 

After the tenth failed attempt, Tetsurou was starting to feel frustrated.

“It’s normal to not get something at first,” Kenma tried to reassure him, “It’s like video games. You’ll eventually level up.” 

Tetsurou grit his teeth and glared at the net. “You’re right. I just gotta keep grinding until I can finally do it.”

They didn’t notice the old man—the one who was coaching the teenager on their shared court—until he was standing right next to Tetsurou and had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“It seems like you’re having a bit of trouble,” he said with a warm lilt in his voice.

“I can’t jump high enough to get past the net,” Tetsurou huffed.

The man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Then we lower the net.” He moved toward the net to adjust the height. “The first lesson in volleyball is that _volleyball is fun._ It would be a shame to let something silly like a net be a barrier to that. There, that should be better—why don’t you give it another try?” 

The top edge of the net was now level with the tips of Tetsurou’s hair. The man picked up a ball and went to the middle of the court, then nodded at the boys. Kenma and Tetsurou got into position, and they went through the now-familiar motions. The man threw the ball in an arc higher than Tetsurou’s previous attempts, and it perfectly connected with Kenma’s fingertips. The second Tetsurou saw contact, he ran toward the net and jumped, pushing himself off the floor to a rush of air that cooled the sweat on his face, and a moment later, his hand slammed into a solid mass that was launched directly down. As gravity quickly returned Tetsurou to the earth, he saw the ball land on the other side of the court and bounce back into the air with nearly the same amount of force that it came down with.

Tetsurou could feel the stinging impact of the ball against his palm, and he turned around to stare at Kenma with wide eyes.

“Oh. My. God. That was amazing!!!” 

“That was pretty cool,” Kenma admitted with a small smile.

“See? Wasn’t that fun?” The old man beamed at Tetsurou and Kenma, seemingly proud of them for what was, objectively speaking, a very rudimentary spike on a lowered net. “Well, I have to get going now. I hope to see you boys around more.”

Tetsurou and Kenma bowed, thanking him for his help.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Tetsurou called out as the man was leaving.

The man turned around, grinning. “You can call me Nekomata- _sensei.”_

**※ ※ ※**

“Video games or volleyball today?”

“Kenma! You’re offering to do something other than video games?! I’m so honored.”

“I take it back. We’re playing video games.”

“Nooooo I’m sorry I made fun of you! Can we please play volleyball?”

“I don’t even know why I offered.”

“Don’t lie to me Kenma! You’ve never offered to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“Fine.”

**※ ※ ※**

“Hey Kenma, can I ask you something?” Tetsurou was laying on the couch with his legs propped against the backrest, head hanging upside-down off the side as he read a book for school. He peeked over the edge of the novel to stare at the television. Kenma was controlling the character on-screen, ducking behind metal crates in a warehouse to take aim and release a flurry of bullets. It was his first playthrough of _Metal Gear Solid: The Twin Snakes_ , and he was on his fourth attempt at the Vulcan Raven boss fight.

“Sure.”

“Why do you like video games so much?”

Kenma shrugged his shoulders and kept his focus on the figures dashing across the warehouse, wincing when he got hit with an attack. “They’re fun.” 

“Yeah, but a lot of things are fun, like watching movies and eating pie and volleyball.” Tetsurou rolled off the couch to sit on the floor next to Kenma. “Why video games specifically?”

Kenma wrinkled his nose. “I only sometimes like volleyball.” He chewed on his lip while he thought to himself, eyes closely tracking the on-screen movements. “I like winning,” he finally answered, dodging behind a crate to narrowly avoid a hit.

“Well, duh. Who doesn’t?”

Kenma dashed around the corner and launched a rocket right at the enemy, delivering the final blow and silently punching a fist in the air as the cutscene loaded. He paused the game and turned to face Tetsurou, leaning in. 

“Did you see that?” he asked Tetsurou, irises shining bright. 

“Yeah, that was so cool! That was a sick sneak attack at the very end.” Kenma really was great at video games. 

“It’s not just winning. It’s that feeling when you keep trying over and over again but you still can’t beat the enemy. But as you keep fighting, you start to understand their attacks, and you do a little more damage each time you try. And then you manage to nail an attack at the perfect moment and finally defeat them.”

“Which then unlocks the next stage.”

“Exactly.”

Tetsurou smiled at the boy across from him. “You’re cool, Kenma.”

Kenma blushed. “Shut up, Kuro.”

“I’m serious! You’re really good at video games, and it’s cool how passionate you are about them.”

“I’m just a nerd. It’s whatever.” 

“Nuh uh,” Tetsuro retorted adamantly, crossing his arms and leaning against the couch. “You’re cool, and that’s just the truth.”

**※ ※ ※**

“Hey Kenma, guess what?”

“What?”

“You know how we did physicals at school today?”

“Okay…?”

“Guess how tall I am now?” Tetsurou was practically preening. 

“How tall are you?”

“Kenmaaa, you’re not guessing,” Tetsurou whined.

“I’m not going to ask again.”

“Fine, I’m one hundred fifty centimeters!”

“Cool.”

“Kenma why aren’t you impressed?” Tetsurou pouted. “I’m the first one in my class to hit a meter and a half. If you round up, that makes two meters!”

“That just makes you a beanpole.” 

“Kenma!” Tetsurou scoffed, scandalized. “I’m not a beanpole!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“You’re a giant,” Kenma retorted, poking Tetsurou’s ribs. “That hair of yours doesn’t help, either. That probably adds what, like ten centimeters?”

“Why does everyone always say that?!”

“How do you even get your hair like that? It’s ridiculous.”

“No it’s not! I think it kind of makes me look like Harry Potter.” Tetsurou had been on a bit of a Harry Potter binge lately, ever since the release of _Order of the Phoenix_ a few months ago.

Kenma rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and Harry Potter’s notorious for his messy hair.” Kenma had never read the series since he didn’t enjoy reading in general, but proximity to Tetsurou was enough for him to pick up some basic knowledge.

“I can’t help it,” Tetsurou wailed, “I just wake up and it’s like that!”

“I don’t know how you don’t suffocate in your sleep.”

“It’s just a habit at this point.”

“You’re weird.”

“ _You’re_ weird!”

“At least I’m not a beanpole.”

“You’re just jealous you can’t be tall like me,” Tetsurou teased, ruffling Kenma’s hair. Kenma huffed and made a halfhearted attempt to swat at Tetsurou’s hand on his head. “It’s okay though, I like how small you are.”

“Screw you, I’m not _that_ small.”

“Yeah you are!” Tetsurou picked Kenma up and spun him around with ease. “I wouldn’t be able to do this if you weren’t tiny.”

“Kuro what the hell, put me down!” 

Tetsurou held Kenma under his armpits and lifted him. Kenma glared at him, body stiff in the air, and Tetsurou laughed at how much Kenma resembled a grumpy cat held against his will. Feeling merciful, he set Kenma back on the ground, only to be punched in the gut as soon as he released the smaller boy.

**※ ※ ※**

“Tetsurou! Where are you? Oh, there you are…” Tetsurou’s father was walking down the hallway and backed up to poke his head into Tetsurou’s bedroom. “Can you go to Lawson and get me a pack of cigarettes?”

Tetsurou looked up from the book he was reading and frowned. “No. I’m pretty sure you have to be at least twenty to do that.”

“Damn, I forgot,” his father huffed, “I guess you’re only half of that, huh.”

“Not for another few months. I’m still only nine, _Tou-san.”_

“Right, right,” he nodded. “Whatcha reading there? New book?”

Tetsurou glanced down at the cover. He was re-reading _Prisoner of Azkaban,_ his favorite in the series, for the fourth time. He knew for a fact that his father had seen this book in Tetsurou’s hands before since he asked the exact same question a month ago.

“I’ve had this one for a few years. It’s my favorite from _Harry Pott—”_

“That series you won’t shut up about lately,” his father cut him off, “I remember now. You know, it’s not healthy to stay inside all day reading books. When you’re older, you won’t be able to support your wife and children with made-up stories.”

“I don’t just read.” Tetsurou frowned “I also play video games with Kenma, and sometimes we practice volleyball.”

“Hmm,” his father hummed to himself, “Video games aren’t much good for you, either. Maybe this Kozume kid isn’t the best influence on you.”

“What’s wrong with Kenma?” Tetsurou asked, a growing edge in his voice.

“Well, you gotta admit, the kid’s a little…” his father vaguely waved his hand, “Weird? Socially awkward? I don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk, now that I think about it. I wonder if he even has any friends.”

“Kenma’s not weird!” Tetsurou indignantly rejected his father’s assessment. “Maybe you haven’t heard him talk because you haven’t spent any time around him, or even tried to talk to him!”

“Okay okay, geez, I didn’t think you’d get so defensive—” his father raised his hands in an attempt to placate Tetsurou, but Tetsurou continued ranting.

“And _I’m_ Kenma’s friend!” Tetsurou paused. “He’s my _best_ friend! Maybe if you cared enough about me, you would have noticed that!”

His father’s expression turned steely. “How dare you accuse me of not caring—I work all day, every day, just to provide for you, and not once have I ever complained! Have you ever heard me complain? Hm?! Such an ungrateful child,” he spat.

“Yeah but you’re never home, and whenever you’re actually here, you aren’t interested in talking to me at all. You’ve always been like that, and it’s gotten worse since we left _Kaa-san_ and Suki. At least _Kaa-san_ would ask about my day, but then you had to move us all the way here!”

“Don’t talk about that woman,” his father snapped, “She’s the reason you’re a little pussy who wastes his days away playing video games. She didn’t even want you—why do you think you’re here in Tokyo while your sister’s still in Ibaraki?”

Tetsurou froze. “I thought...it was because Suki was already in high school. So the judge said it was harder for her to move schools…”

His father scoffed. “That judge didn’t know shit. Your mother didn’t _want you—_ she chose Suki over you.”

“No, that’s not true,” Tetsurou cried, the book tossed aside and long-forgotten on the mattress. “ _Kaa-san_ always said that she loved both of us equally.”

“Well, that woman lied about a lot of things.” The acidity in his father’s snarl burned through Tetsurou. “Has she even tried to call you since we left? She’s already forgotten about you. You’re lucky you have me. At the end of the day, I’m all you have left.”

“Shut up,” Tetsurou hissed through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the prickling in his eyes. He got out of bed and shoved past his father in the doorway. “I’m going to Kenma’s.”

“That’s right, just run away you son of a bitch,” his father yelled at his retreating back.”

“Don’t talk about _Kaa-san_ like that,” Tetsurou whispered under his breath, seething but not loud enough for the other man to hear. Instead, he slammed the front door behind him and tipped back his head to lean against the barrier, trying to force oxygen through his lungs. Tears slid down his face despite his attempts to suppress them, and Tetsurou felt like he was choking on air. His shoulders shook against the solid wood as he cried, and he wondered if his father was going to chase after him. A traitorous part of him desperately waited for the door to open against his back, but minutes passed by and it remained firm and closed. 

By then, he had managed to calm down a bit, his breaths a little less shaky—he was still a mess, but he wasn’t full-on sobbing anymore.

Kenma opened the door across the street a minute after Tetsurou rang the bell.

“You’re here,” Kenma said blankly as if he were observing the weather instead of greeting a friend who showed up on his front step in the middle of the night with puffy red eyes and snot dripping from his nose.

“Hi, sorry, I know it’s late, but can I crash here for a bit? I just got in a really bad fight with my dad,” Tetsurou explained in a rush.

Kenma simply nodded and stepped aside to let Tetsurou in, then led the way to the living room. “I’m just playing _Melee_. Want to join?”

“Sure,” Tetsurou gave Kenma a watery smile, hastily wiping stray tears from his cheeks. If Kenma noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

The two boys settled in their usual spots on the couch, purple and silver controllers in hand, and Kenma loaded a new game. He quickly won the first round, which wasn’t unusual because Kenma was practically a _Melee_ champion and definitely better than Tetsurou, but Tetsurou was making simple mistakes that night—he was missing basic combo moves, running straight into Kenma’s attacks, mistiming jumps that resulted in his character falling off the edge of the platform. After he died from the sixth consecutive avoidable error, Kenma paused the game and turned to face Tetsurou.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he deadpanned.

“Not really,” Tetsurou admitted, fiddling with the triggers on his silver controller.

“Let’s level up, then.”

Tetsurou glanced up at Kenma. “What do you mean? I didn’t know you could level up in _Melee_?”

Kenma shook his head, then pointed at a volleyball laying in the corner of the room. “No, let’s go play. So you can level up.”

“It’s late though. The gym’s already closed,” Tetsurou pointed out.

“We can play outside.” 

Tetsurou nodded in agreement, and Kenma led the way to an empty riverbed near their neighborhood with grassy hills surrounding both sides. There was an old, run-down net, constructed from makeshift materials, sticking out of the flat ground near the riverbed, and it looked like it was a stiff breeze away from completely falling apart.

“This is perfect.” Tetsurou surveyed the grassy expanse, grinning for the first time that night.

“I found it the other day when I was walking home from the store with my mom,” Kenma said with a shrug.

They played for hours, only walking back toward their neighborhood as the faintest glow of sunlight peeked over the suburban Tokyo skyline. They both collapsed in Kenma’s bed the second they arrived at home, exhaustion settling deep in their bones. Tetsurou had the vague thought that he would deeply regret this when they had to wake up for school in a few hours, but in the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care as he drifted off to sleep beside an already-snoring Kenma.

**※ ※ ※**

With each passing birthday, they added a new tradition. Some things stayed the same—every October 16 had video games and vanilla cake, and on the 17th of November, they always played volleyball and ate chocolate cake. But volleyball and video games were already a part of their normal routine, so they added something new every year to make it special.

On Kenma’s ninth birthday, they tried baking a cake together instead of buying one from the store. The visual elements had a lot of room to grow, but it still tasted good enough for Kenma to get a second slice.

The night before Tetsurou’s tenth birthday, they had a sleepover and stayed up until midnight so Kenma could be the first person to wish him a happy birthday _._ Tetsurou got detention for falling asleep in class the next morning, but he thought it was worth it. 

The next October, they went to the movie theater after school and watched a new Halloween-themed horror film that had just been released. It became a thing—horror movies on Kenma’s birthday—much to Tetsurou’s distress. Tetsurou retaliated with Harry Potter films every November, and on his twelfth birthday, he even made Kenma sit through a whole series marathon.

“This seems a little excessive,” Kenma had commented as Tetsurou loaded the DVD for _Goblet of Fire_.

“I got a new movie on my birthday last year,” Tetsurou’s pleading voice tried to explain, “but the next movie AND the next book aren’t coming out until next year. Kenma, how am I supposed to survive _two whole years_ without any new Harry Potter content?”

Kenma rolled his eyes, but he didn’t complain when he was subjected to Tetsurou’s fawning over Cedric Diggory.

**※ ※ ※**

Steam rose and hit Tetsurou’s face as he peered into the rice cooker, using a paddle to fluff the white rice. He carefully scooped a ball into his _bento_ next to portions of friend mackerel and pickled sides.

“What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night.” His father came into the kitchen, yawning and scratching at his stomach.

“I’m just preparing tomorrow’s lunch so I don’t have to worry about it in the morning,” Tetsurou explained without looking up.

“You’re starting junior high tomorrow, right?” His father reached into the fridge and pulled out a can of _conbini_ beer, popping the tab open with a hiss. 

Tetsurou nodded. “Yeah, at Nekoma Junior High.” 

“Well, since you’re old enough now, you don’t need a babysitter anymore, so you can come straight home after school.” With that, his father turned and left, retreating to his bedroom.

Tetsurou mulled over his words. He wasn’t even aware he _wasn’t_ allowed to be home alone—he just always walked home with Kenma and spent every evening together because it was fun. Where else could he want to be? Surely not in the lonely household he was currently occupying.

**※ ※ ※**

His first day of junior high turned out, overall, pretty decent. Atsuko and Yukie, his friends from elementary school, were also attending Nekoma, but they were in a different classroom. He made a few new friends among his own classmates, so it wasn’t a total bust, but the lunch break was especially lonely—Tetsurou usually ate with Kenma, but Kenma was still stuck in the year below him in elementary school. He considered searching for Atsuko and Yukie, but when he peered into the yard, he noticed that the boys and girls were all sitting in separate groups with none of the boys or girls talking to each other. He thought it was strange since the gender divide wasn’t that prominent at his old school, but he still ended up eating alone in his classroom, and he spent the remainder of his lunch break practicing serves behind the gym. 

“Woah, that was pretty good,” a voice called out behind Tetsurou after a serve, startling him. The ball rolled into the bushes. Tetsurou whirled around and found himself face-to-face with a slightly-older boy with a lopsided grin.

“I’m Takeuchi Hirohito, class 3-1. I’m also captain of the volleyball team,” he introduced himself.

“Kuroo Tetsurou, class 1-2.” Tetsurou bowed out of politeness, then looked up at Takeuchi to match his smirk.

**※ ※ ※**

“Kyan-ma~ I missed you today!” Tetsurou flopped on the couch and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy’s shoulders. Kenma stared right past him to focus on his avatar running on the TV screen.

“We literally saw each other less than twenty-four hours ago.”

“Yeah, but I missed you at school! I was lonely at lunch.” 

Kenma glanced at Tetsurou. “Well, we still have after school.”

“But volleyball practice is starting next week so I’ll have even less time with you!” Tetsurou cried, “Can you hurry up and get older so you can join me already?”

“Volleyball practice?”

Tetsurou sat up straight, suddenly energized. “Yeah! I met the captain today and he asked if I wanted to join! Kenma, you should join next year too!”

Kenma wrinkled his nose. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

“Yeah, but volleyball is fun! And you’ve never been afraid of hard work—don’t give me that look—I’ve seen how you get when you’re achievement grinding. You don’t mind working hard if it’s for something you enjoy doing. It’s just like leveling up.”

Kenma hummed in assent, but Tetsurou could tell he wasn’t fully convinced.

“Just think about it, okay? You don’t have to decide until next year. I just think it’d be a lot of fun to play together on a proper team. Anyway, whatcha playing today?”

**※ ※ ※**

“So it’s not technically the first _Metal Gear Solid_ game for PSP, but it’s the first one for PSP that retains the same action-based play mechanics from the mainline series.” Kenma had his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, but he was still rocking back and forth on his heels. 

“So this is a pretty big deal, then!” Tetsurou looked down at him, smiling at the rare display of excitement. Kenma nodded, the movement causing a strand of hair to fall into his eyes. Tetsurou instinctively reached out to tuck it behind his ear. “Your hair’s getting pretty long,” he commented. 

Kenma tugged at the ends. “I’m thinking of growing it out.” 

Tetsurou tried to imagine Kenma’s currently ear-length hair reaching past his jawline, large cat-like eyes quietly observing the world through his fringe. 

“I think it would suit you,” Tetsurou finally concluded with a grin. 

“You think so?” Kenma twisted a strand between his fingertips.

“Yeah, it would look good.”

“Okay.” Kenma hid a shy smile. “I’ll do it, then.”

Tetsurou reached out to ruffle Kenma’s hair then groaned when he noticed the time on his watch. “Ugh, it’s only 8 o’clock. We still have four hours to go.”

“Yeah, and look at how long the line is already,” Kenma pointed out. Tetsurou craned his neck and saw that while they were only a few spots away from the front entrance of the video game store, the end of the line had already wrapped around the block corner. “We would be all the way back there if we hadn’t shown up early.”

“Hmm, I guess it was worth it.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Kenma mumbled, “for coming with me. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I came. It’s important to you, so it’s important to me. Besides, it’s a big deal—the first _Metal Gear Solid_ game for PSP with the original mechanics!” Tetsurou lightly bumped his shoulder against Kenma’s with a smile. “And it’s a Friday night, so it’s not like we have school to worry about in the morning. Oh, speaking of school, guess what happened today?”

“What?”

“Kenma, that’s not a guess!”

“What happened?”

“You never wanna guess,” Tetsurou pouted, but he continued. “Atsuko confessed to me.”

“Oh.” Kenma blinked. “So are you dating now?”

Tetsurou’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “You thought I’d accept her confession?”

Kenma shrugged. “I dunno, it makes sense. You were friends back in elementary school, and you’re both at Nekoma together now.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t want to date just _any_ friend. The person you date is supposed to be special.”

“So you turned her down?”

“No. I didn’t know what to say.” Tetsurou frowned. “I told her I’d think about it, and I’d get back to her on Monday.”

“Damn, brutal. You’re just gonna leave her hanging like that?”

“I panicked, okay?! That was my first confession!” Tetsurou tried to defend himself, “I could barely even process the whole thing, and you were waiting for me back home so we could walk here together, and I didn’t want to make us late.”

“So what are you gonna tell her?”

“I’m not sure, but I think I’m gonna turn her down.”

“I thought you’d be really obnoxious about being the first guy in your class to get a girlfriend.”

“Kenma, do you think that little of me?” Tetsurou gasped in mock scandal. His voice took on a more serious tone. “I guess I just don’t feel like dating anyone right now.”

“Why not?”

“It’s one of those things that sounds nice in theory,” Tetsurou explained, “Don’t get me wrong, I think Atsuko’s cute and all, but I already have volleyball practice most afternoons, and we always hang out in the evenings. I’m barely doing my homework as things stand, so I definitely don’t have time for a girlfriend.”

“We could hang out less, and that way, you can make time for Atsuko,” Kenma suggested.

“Kenma, are you trying to get rid of me?!” Tetsurou cried, “I thought you loved me!”

“No, I hate you. You’re being embarrassing right now.” Kenma tried to shove him, but Tetsurou held his ground. “I just meant that we hang out, like, every single day. If it’ll make you happy, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to spend some of your time with her.” 

“But I’m already happy with the way things are,” Tetsurou said, suddenly earnest, “I hang out with you because I _like_ spending time with you.”

“Shut up. You are _so_ embarrassing.” This time, Kenma managed to push Tetsurou fully off the sidewalk.

**※ ※ ※**

“Good morning,” Tetsurou’s father greeted him the next morning.

“Good morning,” Tetsurou replied, his back still turned toward the door as he prepared _miso_ soup over the stove. He heard his father’s slippers shuffling across the kitchen as he moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, then the scrape of a chair against the tile floor as he sat down at the dining table.

“Oh, what’s this?” Tetsurou heard his father say after some rustling. He turned around to see him rifling in the backpack that Tetsurou had left laying on the table.

“ _Tou-san_ , can you not do that please?” His plea was ignored as his father pulled out Atsuko’s letter, the envelope adorned with cutesy stickers and hand-drawn hearts. 

“Tetsurou, is this a confession?” his father asked, smirking.

“Yes, now can you please put it back?” he asked with forced patience.

“So little Tetsu’s got a girlfriend now, huh?” His father’s smirk widened.

“No, she’s just a friend. I’m going to turn her down.”

“Huh? Why are you rejecting her?” his father asked, confused, “You should be proud that girls are confessing to you!” 

“Can you stop making a big deal out of it, please?” Tetsurou pleaded, desperate to change the subject.

“Why not? Don’t you want a girlfriend?”

“I just don’t feel like dating anyone right now,” Tetsurou grumbled, “I just want to focus on school right now.”

 _Okay, that was kind of a lie,_ Tetsurou admitted to himself. But it was enough to placate his father, who finally dropped the subject. 

The morning progressed without further incident, Tetsurou and his father co-existing as they ate breakfast, but the strained silence sparked a thrumming under Tetsurou’s skin. He fidgeted, trying to relieve the building itch in his muscles, which only earned him a _tsk_ from his father. 

He needed a distraction—something that would make him forget everything. The tension at home. Atsuko’s confession. Hell, even his academic standing, now that he had made the mistake of mentioning his grades.

Whenever he got like this, too amped up and full of restless energy, his go-to solution was to beg Kenma to play volleyball. But it was currently the afternoon after the _Metal Gear Solid: Portable Ops_ midnight release, which meant Kenma was either 1) still glued to his PSP, about to beat the game, or 2) passed out after completing the full playthrough in one sitting. 

So definitely no volleyball with Kenma.

Tetsurou grabbed his ball anyway and left the house to go to their usual outdoor spot at the run-down net by the riverbed. He practiced serves, over and over again, relishing the burn in his muscles and the sting of his palm. He was soaked through with sweat, but he relentlessly repeated the motions of tossing into the air, slamming his open palm into the hard material of the ball, and chasing after it as it rolled away. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving, and the blood rushing in his ears was loud enough to drown out everything else.

**※ ※ ※**

By some stroke of luck, Kenma had agreed to join the Nekoma Junior High Volleyball Club. 

Tetsurou couldn’t help but be proud during the first practice when their coach put the first years through drills to gauge their abilities, and Kenma had the most refined skills out of the batch.

Kenma also had a knack for strategy, which was less a miracle and more so the result of hundreds of hours of dedication to video games.

“See Juurou there?” Kenma paused the recording of their most recent match, pointing at one of the wing spikers in the back line.

“Yeah, I remember _Sensei_ subbed him out a few minutes after this.”

“Right. You know how he’s weaker at receives? The other team was exploiting that.” Kenma pressed play, and they observed the rest of the sequence. “They targeted him so that our formation broke, and then he wasn’t able to recover in time for the run-ups.”

“Hmm, you’re right,” Tetsurou mused, studying the tape. 

“He ended up switching out with Katashi here, but it was too late at that point. Our attacks were already failing. Instead of subbing in another wing spiker, we should have brought in Kenzou, even though the libero can’t score points. He would have been in the back for the next few rotations, and he could have strengthened our defense and bought us time so our spikers could recover.”

Kenma explained the strategies in a monotone, but Tetsurou saw his eyes tracking the ball and its movements on-screen. It was the same look he had when he was fighting a boss battle in a game, focused and picking apart the enemy piece by piece until he had it all figured out.

Tetsurou propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin against his hand, and admired the way Kenma’s eyes always revealed his true emotions—especially when they were bright and alive like this. It was his favorite version of Kenma.

His second year of junior high was shaping up to be pretty great.

**※ ※ ※**

“Kuro, how are you _this_ bad at steering?”

“It’s hard, okay! I’m used to only throwing items and drifting!”

“And I’m used to driving, but you don’t see me fucking up right now.”

“Oh my god Kenma, just shut up and throw the items. Look, we just fell to fourth place, use that blue shell!”

“It’s not my fault your driving sucks.”

“Kenma, this is a goddamn co-op game! We need to use teamwork!”

“This is why I always drive.”

“Yes, I know! There is a _reason_ I am the item-thrower! But _you_ were the one who wanted to try something new today.”

“Hm. I regret it.”

“Can we please just get through this last lap?”

“I dunno…” 

“Kenma you’re being so bratty!” Tetsurou reached out a leg, trying to physically kick Kenma off the couch without losing focus, but Kenma merely scooted out of the way and stuck his tongue out at Tetsurou. Tetsurou glanced over and saw Kenma suppressing a smirk.

Kenma leaned over to jab Tetsurou’s ribs in retaliation, making Tetsurou flail and veer the kart off-course into the grass. Tetsurou desperately tried to get back on the racetrack, finally squeezing out a pathetic sixth-place finish. 

“You’re such a little shit!” he shrieked, leaping across the couch to tackle Kenma into the cushion. He started tickling Kenma, targeting the skin right above his hips where he knew Kenma was particularly sensitive. “How do you fucking like _that?”_

“Oh my god, Kuro.” Kenma squirmed and kicked against Tetsurou’s thighs that were holding him hostage. “When did your language get so foul?”

“I’ve always been like this! Besides, I’m almost in high school—I gotta sound older!”

“You’re such— a fucking bitch— you’re barely— halfway— through junior high,” Kenma wheezed, unable to suppress his laughter under the assault of Tetsurou’s fingers.

“You’re just as bad as me!” Tetsurou accused. At that moment, Kenma surged upward in an attempt to throw Tetsurou off-balance, but Tetsurou held firm and returned the force downward, pinning Kenma’s small wrists against the cushions. Suddenly, Tetsurou became painfully aware of the short distance between his face and Kenma’s. 

_What’s that, like, like thirty centimeters?_ he thought to himself, _Twenty? Fifteen?”_

He quickly sat back on his heels. _That was weird._ He reached for a pillow to throw at Kenma’s face and distract from the heat warming his cheeks. _Time to throw that memory away and never unpack it._

**※ ※ ※**

Tetsurou’s second year of junior high was pretty great—he was able to walk to and from school alongside Kenma again, and they ate lunch together all the time, and he got to play volleyball every day with his best friend. It would have been perfect if he never had to return to his house.

Tetsurou had briefly stepped into his kitchen to toss his sports bag on the counter, but he stopped when he saw his father sitting at the table. 

“You’re back early,” Tetsurou remarked, “Did you change shifts at work?”

“Hm?” His father looked up from the newspaper in confusion.

“Are you not working evening shifts anymore?”

His father’s face shifted in realization. “I’m still scheduled for some of them. I’m just off today.”

Tetsurou nodded. “Okay. Well, I’m just here to drop off my volleyball stuff and grab some clothes, then I’m going to spend the night at Kenma’s.” All of his spare clothes at Kenma’s were dirty, and he was too lazy to do laundry that night.

“Volleyball, huh.” His father tilted his head at Tetsurou’s knee pads spilling out of the half-unzipped bag. “I knew I made a good call with that one. You’re welcome, by the way, for getting you into volleyball. I’m glad you have a sport to toughen you up.”

Tetsurou considered telling his dad _No, actually, you just got me a random-ass volleyball from the store you work at because you couldn’t be bothered to care about my birthday,_ or _I only started liking volleyball because it was another thing to do with Kenma,_ or even _I love volleyball, but I don’t know if I love you._

Tetsurou didn’t say any of those things. Instead, his father opened his goddamn mouth again.

“Who was that girl, with the brother who played? Atsuko _-chan,_ right? Do you still talk to her? You should ask her out so you can play with him.” 

Something snapped in Tetsurou. “What the fuck, _Tou-san?!_ Why are you so obsessed with me getting a girlfriend?!”

“I just don’t understand why you won’t date any of the girls that like you—don’t act so surprised, I’ve seen the confession letters in your room!” 

Tetsurou bristled at the invasion of privacy, but he froze at his father’s next words.

“Thank god you’re an athlete, or else I’d think you were a queer.”

**※ ※ ※**

“Hey, Kenma.”

“What, Kuro?”

“You know how we had those nurse visits today?”

“....And?”

“Heh.”

“What.”

“Guess how tall I am now?”

“What.”

“One hundred seventy-one.”

“Cool.”

“Come on Kenma, can’t you act more excited for me?”

“Nah.”

“What did you get?”

“One hundred fifty-two.”

“Aww, Kenma! Congratulations! You finally hit the big one-point-five!” Tetsurou pretended to wipe a tear from his eye then pulled Kenma into a headlock and rubbed a fist in his hair. “I haven’t been in the 150s since elementary school!”

“Shut the fuck up Kuro, I remember you hit it like two months before starting junior high.” Kenma wrestled himself out of Tetsurou’s arms and huffed, but the corner of his mouth was tilted upward. “I don’t know why it matters to you so much.”

“I just love being taller than you,” Tetsurou smirked, stretching out a hand to ruffle Kenma’s hair, but Kenma ducked and swatted his hand away before he could reach. 

**※ ※ ※**

“Oh my god. Is that a cat?” 

Tetsurou paused his steps and turned over his shoulder to see Kenma crouching on the ground.

 _“Ps-ps-ps-ps-ps.”_ Kenma reached a closed fist toward a rustling bush. A tentative little nose poked out, followed by a head covered in black fur. Tetsurou gently lowered his body and joined them, staying a bit farther behind and letting Kenma take the lead.

“Hi there, baby.” Kenma’s voice was even quieter than usual. He extended his hand for the cat to smell without forcing himself, giving the small cat plenty of space to escape if it wanted to. The little creature crawled out from the bush, body close to the ground, and warily sniffed Kenma’s knuckles. After a minute of hushed silence, the cat nuzzled its face into Kenma’s fingers, purring when he scratched under its chin. Kenma smiled softly as it stood up and twisted around his ankles. 

“It likes you,” Tetsurou whispered over Kenma’s shoulder. 

“Are you lost?” Kenma scanned the ground near the bush for a broken collar.

“I think it’s a stray.” Tetsurou motioned at the little brambles caught in the dirty black fur and the scratches on its hind leg.

“Oh,” Kenma frowned and his voice became impossibly soft. “I wish I could take you home. _Kaa-san_ ’s allergic, though.” 

Tetsurou reached his fist out, mimicking Kenma’s motions from earlier to let the cat sniff him. Once the cat leaned into his hand, he scratched its cheeks and felt a tug at his heart. “Maybe we can visit it again tomorrow.”

The curve in Kenma’s pout relaxed and he moved to stand up. “See you later, Kuro,” he whispered as he gave the cat a final pet.

“Huh?”

Kenma pointed at a particularly messy patch of fur at the top of the cat’s head, between its ears. “It looks like you. I’m naming it Kuro.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Tetsurou said sarcastically.

Kenma waved goodbye to the cat and started walking away. “Come on, Kuroo. Let’s go.”

“I can’t believe I just lost my nickname to a stray cat,” Tetsurou grumbled as he followed Kenma.

**※ ※ ※**

Surely enough, they ran into Kuro (the cat) the next day on their walk home from school, and every day after that. Kenma started buying cat treats and little packets of tuna to keep in his backpack, whipping out some form of edible bribery every time the cat appeared. 

Tetsurou was _not_ jealous of a stray cat.

At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself every time Kenma picked up the cat to cradle it in his arms like a baby, or when he even kissed that nasty-ass patch of fur on its head. _Gross._

Okay, maybe he was a _little_ jealous of the way Kenma easily cooed at the cat, heaping praise of “You’re the sweetest baby” on the ball of black fur that was in desperate need of a bath. He had to admit that it was a little unfair, though, how Kenma was always giving Tetsurou shit while he was clearly and perfectly capable of acting otherwise. 

It was also wildly unfair how _cute_ the scene in front of him was. Kenma was wearing Tetsurou’s hoodie that was a size too big on him, and the too-long sleeves were slipping past his wrists. He carried Kuro in his arms, eyes closed as he lifted the cat and cuddled their faces together.

Tetsurou could feel a cavity rotting in his teeth. _Yeah, I’m definitely jealous._ He wasn’t sure why, but that was just another thought to shove away in his brain and never think about again.

**※ ※ ※**

“Kuroo- _kun!”_

Tetsurou had been walking to afternoon practice with Kenma and a few of their teammates—Katashi, a wing spiker in Kenma’s year, and Kenzou, a fellow third-year and libero—when he heard someone call his name. He spun around and saw his classmate, a girl named Miki who was the captain of the girls’ volleyball club, waving at him. She was a few centimeters shorter than him and wore her hair in a high ponytail, straight bangs cut right above her eyebrows. She jogged to bridge the distance between them, a sports bag slung over her shoulder, and she fell in step with the boys.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked, smiling at Tetsurou through her eyelashes. “In private,” she added half a second later, glancing at the boys.

Kenzou dug his elbow in Tetsurou’s ribs, smirking, and Tetsurou paused in his steps and turned to his teammates. “Sorry, gimme a sec. I’ll meet you all there?”

Katashi and Kenzou nudged each other and waggled their eyebrows at Tetsurou suggestively, making him blush. Kenma silently nodded and continued walking toward the gymnasium, the other boys eventually following suit, and Tetsurou followed Miki’s lead to the front gates of the school. The _ginkgo_ trees were turning yellow with the autumn season, their scattered leaves covering the ground in a golden blanket.

“What can I do for ya, Miki?” Tetsurou asked with a nervous smile, “Did the girls want to play a practice match again?”

Miki giggled. “That sounds like a great idea, but I actually wanted to talk to you about something else,” she said as she reached into her backpack. In her hand, she pulled out a box of chocolates. “I like you—would you be interested in going out with me?”

Tetsurou gulped and scratched the side of his neck. “Ah Miki, I’m flattered… Don’t get me wrong, you’re a really cool girl, and any guy would be lucky, but I’m just—”

Miki raised a hand and stopped him. “It’s okay Kuroo- _kun,_ I get it” She tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he tried to apologize in a strained voice.

“It’s okay, seriously. I’m just glad I went for it,” Miki reassured Tetsurou then handed him the chocolates. “You should keep these—I’m just going to throw them away otherwise.”

Tetsurou accepted the box and carefully placed it in his backpack. “Thank you, and I’m sorry again.”

“Seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you around, Kuroo.”

Tetsurou watched Miki’s retreating back, then jogged across the campus to get to practice on time. When Tetsurou got to the locker room, he was immediately bombarded with Kenzou and Katashi’s ribbing, and he tried to brush off their interrogations for more details.

Their coach shot them a stern look when they walked into the gym a few minutes late, but he chose to not comment and instead called out directions to pair up for warm-up stretches. Tetsurou walked over to Kenma as usual, and they stretched their legs side-by-side. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They switched to squats, stretching their hips in silence.

“So Miki asked you out,” Kenma finally said.

“Yeah. I turned her down.”

“How come?”

“Same reason I turn down everybody. I don’t have time for a girlfriend right now.”

Kenma hummed. “It’d make the most sense for you to date Miki. You’re both captains, and you could play volleyball together.”

Their conversation was cut short as practice officially began, and the all-consuming focus of volleyball replaced any lingering thoughts of confessions or girlfriends. As they played against each other in a 3v3 practice game, Tetsurou snuck glances at Kenma, who was making a concerted effort to move as little as possible. Unfortunately, with only half the number of regular players on the court, Kenma had more ground to cover, and the setter had to dash back and forth to connect the plays and send tosses to the spikers. 

Tetsurou couldn’t help but admire the way Kenma still tried his best despite his pure hatred of running. His sweaty bangs were clinging to his forehead—he would complain about that later—and his pupils were blown wide, a slightly feral look to him as he lunged to dig the ball. He wore the same expression as when he was in the middle of a final boss fight, determined to survive until the end and come out on top.

**※ ※ ※**

“You were going pretty hard today,” Tetsurou teased Kenma after practice as they walked the familiar route back home.

“It was only out of necessity.”

“Still though, it was cool to see you so into it. You usually hate running like that.”

“Is it that strange to want to play well for my friends?”

Tetsurou paused, caught off-guard by Kenma’s earnest response. “I guess not.”

They walked side-by-side in silence for a minute.

“Hey Kenma?”

“What?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“I’m scared about high school next year.”

Kenma glanced up at Tetsurou. “What are you scared about?”

Tetsurou shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s just a really big change.”

“Hmm. I guess so.”

“I heard that Nekomata- _sensei_ is coming out of retirement to coach the team.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“Yeah. God, I _really_ want to make the team.”

Kenma looked at Tetsurou and narrowed his eyes. “Of course you’re going to.”

“It’s not guaranteed!” Tetsurou nervously ran a hand through his messy hair. “They have tryouts in high school.”

“You’re the captain of our team right now,” Kenma said with a flat stare.

“What if the people are, like, really good?!” 

“Kuro, _you’re_ really good.”

“What am I gonna do if I don’t make it?!” 

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” 

Tetsurou thought to himself. “I should start running in the mornings—get some more conditioning in. And I’ll create a strength training plan, starting next week. That way, I’ll be in top shape by the time high school starts.”

“I hope you’re not dragging me into this extra shit.”

“Aw come on, it’ll be fun!”

“Absolutely not.”

Tetsurou pouted. “You’re so mean to me.”

“What a shame.”

“Kenmaaaa, come on!”

Not wanting to put up with Tetsurou’s pleading, Kenma sighed. “Okay, let’s make a deal. If you make it onto the Nekoma High volleyball team, I will consider doing tryouts.”

Tetsurou’s eyes widened. “Kenma, I thought you were for sure quitting after junior high! You’re going to keep playing? You would do that for me?!”

“I take it back.”

“Kenma!”

“I didn’t say I’d necessarily join. I only said I’d go to tryouts.”

Tetsurou wrapped his arms around Kenma and picked him up in a hug. “Kenma, you’re the best!”

“Put me down, you shit,” Kenma snapped, trying to shove at Tetsurou’s face, but the fondness in his voice betrayed him. “I’ll do it _only_ if you make it onto the team. So don’t fuck up, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third line of the fic summary is a quote from Dr. Brené Brown -- "I define connection as the energy that exists between people when they feel seen, heard, and valued; when they can give and receive without judgment; and when they derive sustenance and strength from the relationship." Can you tell I love my quotes lol.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments make my day! tbh I need that sweet serotonin influx to find the motivation to finish this lol. come say hi to me on my haikyuu/anime [twitter](https://twitter.com/sakuatsusadboi) :)


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